Second thoughts...

I now only have three weeks remaining of what is to be a five month sojourn in France. With all the disappointment and the complaining I have done, it still must be said that I did quite enjoy my time in this country (it would be more appropriate to say "city" as I have for the most part only remained in Paris).

Yet, as the prospect of my return home looms ever closer, I begin to have second thoughts about leaving this City of Lights and Really Expensive Things. Thinking about it the other day, I realized what it would be like to have an actual cellphone again. A phone that is up-to-date, complete with contacts that I appreciate and call on a regular basis. Complete with a camera. A sliding phone. A shiny, LG Black Cherry Chocolate phone. And it struck me: It is so bizarre. It seems of another world, honestly. To imagine myself plunging back into the way my life used to be back home...is very difficult to do.

I am trying to reflect on how my stay in Paris has influenced me as a person thus far. How the final three weeks will add to my experiences and my life changes. Have I changed? In what way? How do I come out of this once in a lifetime moment? How different have I become? The questions are endless but all retain the same meaning: How have I changed? Because it is for certain, that I have changed. However, to put it all into words is another matter. A difficult endeavor-- probably one that will not be well articulated.

Paris, first and foremost, has changed me spiritually. Though in this moment, I feel a bit distant from God, perhaps just from lack of church consistency or other factors, I can with certainty say that it was the only thing God could have provided in my life to pull me out from my spiritual slump of Fall semester. After encountering countless miracles and counting my infinite blessings that constantly fulfill my life, I would be less than a fool to say that prayer has no power. God has shown me again and again and has shouted quietly into my heart countless times that He does listen. No matter how hopeless my heart feels, He fills it with gladness and hope. He fills me with faith by showing me that He is always faithful. If at all nothing else, Paris has taught me that-- a lesson I consider to be most important and which I hold most dear in my heart.

Secondly, it has given me a new perspective about the city itself. Yes, I was disappointed; yes, that disappointment has not yet fully dissipated. Nonetheless, the fact remains that despite all of its shortcomings, Paris is still a gorgeous city, so enriched with cultured and enlivened with character. It is an international city, full of international people. However, it must be noted that even with its status as the number one tourist destination, even with all of the students flocking from various countries to partake in this great, historic city, colonial/imperialistic prejudices and mindsets have not been fully shed. As much as Parisians rub elbows and bump hips with people from all over the world, a large majority of them still retain a superior, colonial European mentality. While I am sure that (hopefully) it is changing, the large majority still have a very long way to go in terms of understanding the cultural differences and recognizing the individuality of each country represented in their city.

Thirdly, being in Paris has ironically underscored my own place in my circle of friends back home. Initially worried about being forgotten and left behind during my absence, the constant communication with my friends has reinforced the indisputable fact that I mean as much to my friends as they mean to me. This was a worry that I had struggled with for a large part of my life, as I am a person who often cares more about other people than they do about me; I had continually felt unappreciated and disappointed in the level of concern directed toward me, even when I knew that people are each different in how they experience and express emotions. Yet, as egotistical as this may sound, hearing my friends constantly mention how important I was to the intimacy of our circle, how they missed me, how they often wished that I had been there with them during periods of happiness and sadness, laughter and anger, may have shut that door of insecurity behind me permanently. That is not to say that I will never have such feelings again in the future; merely that those worries do not leaden my heart or preoccupy my mind as they did previously. How ironic that it took distance to establish this consciousness of closeness. It must be said: I adore my friends. I really do. They are my second family and without them, my world would be a whole less joyful. I firmly believe that we have a special bond that will endure for a very long time. Well...maybe I should pray about that, just in case. Haha.

These three points may sum up the most important changes I have undergone during my stay in Paris. The three points that I can articulate the best. The three that matter most. There are more, certainly, yet they are hard to pinpoint exactly, much less put into words.

Writing this, I am wondering about what will happen when I return. Being in France was and still is like living a dream. A dream where reality is so far away and a mere passing thought. Where I don't have to worry about the things going on in my family, where I don't have to face things and people I don't want to face, where I don't have to constantly prepare myself for a battle of emotions, where I don't have to armor my heart against harsh words, bitterness, resentment, sadness. Where I don't have to think about any of those things. Because they are so far away.

Everything is, without a doubt, better. God has changed a lot in my life and in my heart. But it is true that the same situations exist, the same worries, the same sense of uncertainty. I wonder if I will be strong enough to go back to it all. To have to face it everyday. Will I be able to disengage myself as easily as I used to? Will it be harder since I have fallen out of practice? Or maybe France isn't all that different from the States, where I had perfected the art of distancing myself. Or maybe I am not supposed to disengage myself but plunge myself into the depths of every sort of problem that I had stifled.

I am worried. I am scared. I don't want to...I don't know...I don't want to...I don't want to be uncomfortable. I don't want to suffer. I don't want to see others suffer. I don't want to have to be the rock. I don't want to have to have all these responsibilities. Which is to say that I don't want to grow up, I don't want to live life. Because life will always have discomfort, suffering, support, and responsibilities. And in order to live, we must learn to bear all of it and become better men/women at the end of each struggle. We must rely on God to show us the way and to pull us through.

Does this mean that I am not living while I am in Paris? Or maybe just that I am living a different life, in a different manner? I am not without the discomfort, suffering, support, or responsibilities here; yes, they may be less pronounced, less profound, less mind-blowing, heart-staggering...But they exist, nonetheless. Yet this life is a temporary life, and the other is my life-- what God has designated for me to take on, to change, to heal, to learn from and consequently to teach. It is what he has blessed me with. I'll go back. I want to go back. I am scared. But I want to go back.

Still, I do wish I had maybe an extra week in Paris with nothing to do but walk all around. And taste all the macaroons. Perhaps too much to ask for in the moment, but in the future, it will come.